


Reflections

by red_clover_and_queen_annes_lace



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Found Family, Ladybug!Sabine, Nathalie doesn't know Gabriel is Hawkmoth, Other, Women Supporting Women, cat!Nathalie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_clover_and_queen_annes_lace/pseuds/red_clover_and_queen_annes_lace
Summary: When Adrien and Marinette both find themselves too injured to continue their work as miraculous wielders, they have to resort to finding temporary replacements who are unlikely to get akumatized by Hawkmoth. Thankfully, the answers aren't too far away when you have a relentlessly cheerful mother or a generally emotionless personal assistant. Whether or not the new Ladybug and Chat Noir get along as well as the originals, is a different story.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Sabine Cheng & Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 29
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

For Nathalie, the akuma attack was like any other. Sitting in the office, switching tabs between emails, paperwork, and whatever grainy live footage was available on the attack. Occasionally, during attacks, she would end up as a statue or stuck in a bubble or some other tedious inconveniencing state. Just as quickly, however, she would return to normal, her memory of the incident far away, as if it had happened in a dream. It was a bit disconcerting to think that magic meant to be good had entered her mind and altered her memories without her consent. Or maybe she had consented to her memories being dulled, and she simply couldn’t remember what trauma had driven her to that decision. Either way, it didn’t affect her work much, so she told herself it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t until she heard two dull thuds followed by triumphant cackling that she switched back to the news with a pang of concern. When she checked, the camera recordings were askew, and Ladybug and Chat Noir lay motionless against a wall, the akuma standing gleefully above them.

Nathalie strained to remember the akuma’s abilities. It was something about making them immune to magic, so their powers and armored costumes couldn’t protect them anymore. Panic knotted in her stomach, but she just as soon pushed it away. Something about being in the Agreste mansion made her feel transparent- as if her emotions could be seen beneath her skin. Logic told her it was an unreasonable feeling, so she blamed her emotional repression on professionalism. Her eyes wandered back to the news.

With both Chat Noir and Ladybug inundated, the current attack marked the closest Hawkmoth had ever been to defeating the two teenaged heroes. The akuma crept forward, reaching out for the miraculouses. Nathalie searched the grainy footage for any sign of consciousness from the two heroes. Ladybug’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly around her lucky charm- a metal thermos. Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief.

The akuma lifted Ladybug’s chin and brought a hand to her earrings. The spotted teen’s eyes flew open and she headbutted the villain, hard. The two stumbled back, and Ladybug shoved the thermos on the magical cannon protruding from the akuma’s right arm. With her cannon blocked, Chat Noir leapt forward and grabbed an item clenched in the villain’s other hand. He cataclysmed the item and Ladybug quickly purified the item and invoked her lucky charm. 

Glitzy pink light washed over the city, and buildings were quickly repaired. Bruises and broken bones on some civilians were healed, but it seemed those who had been hit with the akuma’s powers did not receive the effects of Ladybug’s healing magic. The same went for the two heroes, who stood weakly against each other, mottled red and violet bruises blooming on their young faces. Apparently the akuma’s ability to make people immune to magic had persisted even after the all-encompassing lucky charm. It was unprecedented.

They retreated and the livestream cut out, revealing breaking news of hospitals being flooded with injured victims of the attack. Nathalie leaned back in silence, processing. The house felt suffocatingly still and empty. Both the Agrestes were upstairs in their rooms, but the house was so large she felt completely alone. A loud thud rattled the ceiling, startling her. Nathalie stood and glanced towards the noise. It came from Adrien’s room. The thud was probably just him shoving his backpack full of textbooks to the floor, or something else she was always telling him not to do. And there was no way Adrien could have been affected by the attack, he had been in his room the whole time- he was supposed to be practicing piano. The boy was fine. Still, she felt herself stepping away from her desk.

It was just to make sure he was actually practicing piano.

Everything was fine. Probably.

She sped up as she reached the top of the stairs, the click of her heels echoing loudly in the silence piano music should have filled.

“Adrien,” she called in a poor imitation of her usual neutral voice. She heard a scrambling from the other side of the door. 

“Yes, Nathalie?” The boy called in a casual tone that sounded equally as forced as her own. 

“Are you all right? I heard a thud?”

There was a pause. “Oh sorry I just uh, I just accidentally dropped my textbook on the ground.”

Nathalie pressed her ear to the door. She heard a ragged panting on the other side, like a wounded animal. “Ow, shit,” she heard the boy hiss. 

“Alright,” Nathalie said agreeably, “can I come in and hear the piano piece you’ve been working on.”

“No!” Adrien protested frantically before regaining his false calm voice, “I- I mean I haven’t practiced it enough yet, you can hear it when I’m better.”

“Adrien what is going on?” she demanded, unable to keep the shrillness from her voice.

“Nothing I swear-” there was a thud. Adrien groaned.

Nathalie threw open the door, eyes searching the room wildly. She saw Adrien crouched at the foot of his bed, face contorted in pain. She rushed to his side and saw his left ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle. 

“Dear God,” she muttered, crouching in front of him. His knee was scraped up and swollen, his ankle twisted sharply to one side, stained red and beginning to swell. His cheeks and forehead were flush with bruises.

Adrien looked equal parts pained and panicked, tears trailing down his cheeks as he pushed her away. 

“We have to get you to a hospital,” she said firmly, ignoring the questions swimming in the back of her throat. 

“No, Nathalie it’s fine! Go away, I don’t need any help! I’m fine!” He was fully crying now, wheezing and coughing and dripping tears on his clothes. Adrien crying was something she hadn’t dealt with since his mother passed away. The boy had cried at the funeral, then never again. Gabriel had prided the boy on his emotional maturity, Nathalie had worried but said nothing. She did what she had done then, the day she told him his mother was gone, she pulled him gently towards her and rubbed his back comfortingly. She didn’t say anything until he was distracted enough by the physical contact for his breathing to even out. Adrien buried his face in her shoulder.

“Adrien,” she said gently to the boy who was no longer pushing her away and was instead clinging desperately to her arms. Gabriel was always so quick to pride himself on how grown up Adrien was. Nathalie found herself reluctant to accept he was any older than the little boy she had helped raise when she first started working for the Agrestes, especially now. “I’m going to get you some ice, and we’re going to wrap that ankle. Then I am going to call the doctor.”

He nodded, but his breath started to hitch again. “He’s going to know now, if you call the doctor. I won’t be allowed out ever again. He’ll make me stop going to school, please don’t call the doctor.”

“I won’t let him take you out of school,” Nathalie told him adamantly. She had fought tooth and nail to get Adrien to go to school- and had added so much to her workload to adjust Adrien’s schedule for it, she would sooner kill the man before allowing Adrien to be taken from school. “But you NEED a doctor. This isn’t going to heal overnight, you’ll have to take it easy of several weeks. Your father is going to find out sooner or later.”

“Several weeks?” Adrien’s panic doubled. “I can’t take several weeks to heal!” Adrien began to cry again. She handed him a tissue.

“Hey, it’s okay, Adrien, that's okay, I’ll rearrange your schedule so you can take as long and you need! And you’ll still be able to go to school,” Nathalie desperately tried to comfort him. She didn’t know what he thought was happening in the next few weeks that took precedence over his injury, but whatever it was seemed to be quite a weight on his shoulders.

“No, you don’t understand-” he rasped, “I have to- it’s my fault-” he tried to stand up. Nathalie grabbed him and picked him up, concern interfering with her attempts to be gentle. Nathalie set him down on the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

Adrien began to protest but she held up a hand. “Adrien, I don’t know what is making you so frantic, but I don’t care. I will deal with it, and I won’t tell your father if it’s that important to you. But YOU are going to rest, and you are going to see the damn doctor, and I recommend you don’t try to argue with me on that because you will not get anywhere. I’m going to get you ice, and you are going to stay in bed, and figure out whatever story you are going to tell explaining why you were out of your room during an attack.”

Adrien looked like he wanted to protest but nodded. Nathalie gave him one last don’t-argue-with-me-this-is-for-your-own-good glance, before stalking out of the room. When she was out of Adrien’s line of sight she started running, not trusting him to stay alone in his room without trying to get up. She got to the kitchen and made up an icepack, before grabbing her phone from the office (where Gabriel had resumed working) and calling the doctor on the way back to Adrien’s room. 

Adrien was miraculously still in bed when she returned. He stared at her silently as she came in, looking both anxious and contrite. He looks like someone who’s been overruled. On what, she’s not sure. 

“The doctor should be here in fifteen minutes,” she told him, “I’ve brought you some ice in the meantime.” 

Adrien took the ice pack gratefully. He uncovered his leg, revealing darkening bruises, and increased swelling around his ankle. 

Nathalie hissed involuntarily. “How much pain are you in? I don’t want to give you any pain medication in case the doctor provides anything more effective, but if it gets too bad I can still bring you something.”

She must have sounded quite shaken because Adrien’s eyes widened sympathetically. He quickly tried to reassure her. “Oh don’t worry,” Adrien said, “It hurts, but I’ve been hit way worse during an attack before.”

Nathalie’s mouth fell open.

She saw Adrien’s heart drop at his mistake.

“I- I mean-”

“When were you hurt?” Nathalie interrupted quietly.

“I haven’t-”

Nathalie gave a look. 

“You may as well just tell her kid, she’s going to have to know about all this anyway,” Said a grating, unfamiliar voice. 

Nathalie whipped her head around. “What the he-”

“Hey watch the language lady there’s a kid and an immortal god present.”

Nathalie turned to the voice to see a small floating cat with a big head and wide green eyes. It stared at her, unblinking. 

Nathalie- shocked beyond all belief but not about to be undone- stared back, narrowing her eyes challengingly. 

The tiny cat’s mouth broke into a twisted grin, “See kid, I told you she’d be a good fit.”

Nathalie decided not to say anything to the floating cat and instead turned to Adrien. “Adrien, you have five minutes to explain what is going on, and another five minutes to come up with a lie to tell your father. Your time starts now.”

Adrien looked startled, but after a hesitant moment complied. “It’s a long story,” she warned her. “So this is Plagg. He is a kwami and he likes camembert cheese. I’m Chat Noir. Plagg is part of the deal, unfortunately, because he gives me my powers. Now that I’m out of commission you have to be Chat Noir. Wow, that was quicker than I thought it would be.”

Nathalie blinked at him. She tackled what she could process. “Don’t say you’re out of commission. You’re not an object. You are a person who is injured.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “That’s the most Nathalie-y answer you could have possibly given to that statement.”

“I’m not going to be Chat Noir.”

“I stand corrected,” Adrien said, “That was the most Nathalie-y thing you could have said.”

Nathalie sat calculating. “I’m not going to be Chat Noir- and also, I am going to have words with whoever decided to make a child a superhero- but I will cover for you. 

Adrien brightened at that.

“Your father didn’t know where you were before the attack, so we’ll say we were in the courtyard and I was helping you with that history assignment you’ve been having trouble with. We were both attacked, but you were the only one who got hit with the villain’s magic.”

“Why were we outside in the first place?”

“I don’t know, we wanted to enjoy the sunlight or something.”

“Okay that works, let’s go tell him,” Adrien said decisively, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Oh no, I’ll tell him, you will rest.” Nathalie told him, waving the boy back under the covers. 

She returned downstairs and quickly retreated into the bathroom. She allowed herself ninety seconds to freak out. Seeing Adrien getting indirectly targeted by akumas had already been giving her fits of anxiety, but the memories of all the times Chat Noir had been corrupted, incapacitated, or injured sent bolts of cold shock through her limbs. She thought of the dull thud she had heard just that day of the hero getting slammed against a brick wall. Nathalie thought she was going to be sick.

Instead, she stepped out of the bathroom, held her head high, and marched into the office to lie to her boss’s face. And also tell him that his son- who he was massively overprotective about- was horrifyingly injured. 

He took it worse than she imagined. 

“Does he have bruising on his face?”

“I’ve already called the doctor so you don’t- what?”

“Adrien,” Gabriel clarified as if she were an idiot, “Does he have bruising on his face?”

“Ah, yes, light bruising on his jaw and cheeks.”

Gabriel nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose I can work with that.”

Nathalie said nothing. Something roiled in her stomach. She pushed the feeling away, unwilling to feel anything too strongly under her boss’s calculating gaze. 

“Would you like to see him sir?” Nathalie asked carefully. 

“I’ll go up when the doctor arrives. You can care for him until then. Don’t take Adrien out without my permission again.” He turned back to his sketch.

Nathalie stood there for a moment, unable to keep the disbelief off her face. When she didn’t leave he looked back up at her. “Was there something else you needed?”

Nathalie swallowed. “No sir.”

She walked back to Adrien’s room feeling slightly untethered from the world.

Adrien was waiting for her with wide eyes, wringing his bedsheets in his hands anxiously. 

Nathalie could hardly stand to look at him, and settled for a spot just above his head. “He said you are not to leave without his permission again. The doctor will be here shortly.”

Adrien sighed in relief. “So he wasn’t mad?”

Nathalie didn’t share his relief. “Your father seemed too busy with something to be angry.”

The boy smiled, “Good, great actually! And you didn’t tell him about the whole Chat Noir thing?”

“Of course not, he’d kill me. Then you. Then me again.”

Adrien laughed, a sound she had unknowingly grown unaccustomed to. “Why would he kill you for that?”

“Because I manage your schedule. I’m supposed to know where you are at every second of the day, and yet I somehow didn’t notice the fact that you go missing for hours on end to fight supervillains. I’d be mad at me too.”

“But it’s only during akuma attacks!” Adrien insisted, “surely you have other things to worry about when a crazy villain is wreaking the city!”

Nathalie shrugged. “Not really, usually I just keep working. Besides, I have to make up for the work lost while you and your father are supposed to be taking shelter in your rooms,” she said, throwing an accusatory glance in Adrien’s direction. 

The boy started to reply when Gabriel walked in, the doctor and a small team carrying expensive equipment trailing close behind. 

Nathalie abruptly stood from her seat at the edge of the bed, feeling guilty. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t allowed to sit on the bed and chat with Adrien, but somehow it felt like a breach of professionalism. When Mrs. Agreste had still been there, it was fine, the golden haired woman didn’t mind, no, readily accepted Nathalie’s help in raising Adrien- it wasn’t as if Gabriel was terribly present. But when she died Nathalie drew away from the boy, despite her knowing he needed her more than ever. It had all felt too seamless, like Nathalie could just slip into her role as Adrien’s mother without a second thought. Nathalie had tried to assure herself she wasn’t replacing Emilie as his mother, but since then she had maintained her distance. 

The medical team peeled back the blankets to reveal Adrien’s bruised and swollen leg. Nathalie winced at the sight, despite having already seen it, but no one else in the room shared her concern. Doctors and nurses fluttered around Adrien, taking x-rays and all sorts of tests and scans. They determined that his ankle had a Pilon fracture and would take several weeks to heal. They put a cast on it and treated some of his other, smaller injuries while giving him a dose of heavy pain medication. After a few minutes the boy’s eyes went unfocused and his face went slack. He began to mumble things and twist his ring. Nathalie tensed.

“Adrien?” she asked him softly, pushing through the doctors. She had to keep him from saying anything incriminating about being a teenage vigilante. He looked at her and for a moment his eyes flashed with recognition. He smiled sleepily at her. 

“Natty.”

Nathalie glanced around. Gabriel was (unwillingly) bound in conversation with a doctor, conveniently paying her and Adrien no attention.

Nathalie turned back to Adrien and fondly brushed his hair from his face. “Yes, it’s Natty,” she said softly, “Do you want to try and take a nap Adrien? So you can sleep off the medication.”

Adrien looked around blearily. “Yeah I gotta- I gotta sleep. Can’t- sh-shouldn’t talk But Natty you gotta- gotta take my ring. Keep it safe.” He started to twist the silver ring off his finger, but Nathalie stopped him before he could. 

“You keep it, I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

Adrien nodded before leaning against the pile of pillows. In a few minutes he was snoring.

“I’m impressed,” one of the nurses told her, “I’ve never seen a kid stay awake so long after that much medication. He must have an incredible tolerance.”

Nathalie thought about all the times they had given Adrien medicine in the past. Ever since he was little, even the smallest doses of medicine had made him fall asleep within minutes. Nathalie furrowed her brows, “Yes, yes I suppose he does.”

With Adrien asleep, Nathalie of no interest, and two doctors in some chest-puffing ritual to impress Gabriel, the medical team began to file out. Gabriel lingered for a moment in the doorway.

“You are free to go home if you please, Nathalie, I won’t be needing you for the rest of the day.”

Nathalie bristled at the comment but knew he was trying to be obliging. “Thank you sir, but I’d like to stay in the guest room tonight, if I may- to catch up on some of the work I’ve missed due to today’s events.”

Gabriel nodded dismissively, “Do as you wish. I will be in my private studio, please do not interrupt my work.”

“Of course sir.”

Nathalie stands hesitantly for a moment as Gabriel disappears into the hall. She still can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Seized up. Analyzed. Interpreted. She gives the feeling nothing to be interpreted. She quiets any emotions humming in her chest and gives Adrien one last glance before leaving the room to work. She checks on Adrien every half hour, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, and holding two fingers to his wrist to check his pulse. She knows she doesn’t have to- a fractured ankle is hardly life or death. But Nathalie does it, if only to quell any concern she could possibly be cultivating before it bloomed. This, she reminded herself, was not a place for emotions.

Nathalie finally breaks the routine well past midnight, realizing she would be exhausted in the morning if she didn’t go to bed soon. Sighing, she shut off the tablet and pulled on a pair of black satin pajamas with a high collar. She buttoned it to the highest button and didn’t let her hair down, instead plaiting it in a thick braid that hung between her shoulder blades. It was the closest she could get to feeling secure without sleeping in her work clothes. 

The next morning, she woke up earlier than was probably necessary so she could shower and change without anyone else in the house being awake. It was something she had always done, even with Mrs. Agreste around. Nathalie told herself it was an unnecessary habit, but she didn’t bother to try and break it.

Once she was fully armored in her work clothes and bun, Nathalie went to check on Adrien. The boy was still sound asleep, with that strange cat thing- Plagg she thinks he called it- curled up on his shoulder. It was an unwelcome reminder that Adrien had, in fact, admitted to being Chat Noir.

She didn’t like it; Nathalie was thoroughly uncomfortable with the fact that the safety of an entire city rested on the shoulder of a fifteen year old boy. But, if she was being honest, she wasn’t terribly surprised it was Adrien. Now that she knew she could see the similarities, the almond eyes and the slope of the cheeks, they were all remarkably similar. Nathalie found herself wondering how she hadn’t figured it out sooner. And the sense of humor, the theatrical attitude, and the unwavering loyalty and kindness to the people of Paris- no, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised that was Adrien. Nathalie felt something like pride unfurling in her chest. She gave herself a minute to enjoy it, before pushing away that warm glow in favor of professionalism. 

The cat thing looked up at her, blinking it’s glassy lime-colored eyes. It floated towards her. Nathalie resisted the urge to draw away from it.

“You know Hawkmoth will attack before he can heal.”

Nathalie sniffed dismissively, “It can certainly be assumed by his recent patterns.”

“What will you do when that happens?”

“I will take care of Adrien. I will do my job.” 

Plagg gave her a careful unyielding look, “You know you can’t just sit idly by.”

“I’m not good like Adrien,” she told it, “I only care about serving the Agrestes, not the entirety of Paris.”

“You say that but I know Adrien must have gotten his sense of responsibility from somewhere, and I somehow doubt it was from that father of his.”

Nathalie pursed her lips, “He had a mother you haven’t met.”

Plagg still looked unconvinced. “Do you have any camembert?”

Nathalie blinked, confused at the sudden topic change. “No.”

“Pity,” the little thing lamented before returning to Adrien’s shoulder. 

Nathalie took a deep breath and walked out the room, hoping desperately Hawkmoth would refrain from attacking until she figured out what to do.

For the morning her wish was granted, and Nathalie completed business as usual, aside from taking breakfast in Adrien’s room so he wouldn’t be alone. The boy didn’t mention the cat miraculous, or anything related to magic at all. They just talked about what would be happening the next week at his school, and Nathalie mentally noted to try and pick Adrien up later so he would have more time to chat with his friends. Then she went to the shared office (Gabriel was in his private studio most of the time, so it was mostly just her office) and worked efficiently for several hours. 

It wasn’t until a deep rumble shook the house that Nathalie knew her fragile peace of mind was shattered. She pulled up the news. Her phone buzzed. 

Just a minute. She texted Adrien.

Nathalie plz hurry Adrien responds, but she had shut off her phone,

Nathalie glanced back at the news, where a flower-themed villain was growing gigantic plants that tore up the infrastructure. The perfume of the flowers she grew seemed to turn those who smelled them into loyal minions. Within minutes Ladybug swooped into screen. Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief, the girl could likely handle the situation on her own. Except, upon peering closer, the red-spotted woman wasn’t Ladybug at all. 

She was an adult, for one thing. She was short with a kind looking round face and appeared about Nathalie’s age. She had neatly styled short black hair, pinned back with little red clips. She wore a high collared red button-down tunic. The armored tunic was spotted with soft watercolor blotches of black that twined across the bodice. The woman wore black leggings and little red ballet flats.

She was an immensely capable fighter for someone who had likely never fought a supervillain before, but it was clear she was overwhelmed. Nathalie felt a pang of guilt as the woman was hit hard against the shoulder. Chat Noir had always made a point to protect Ladybug when they were fighting. This new Ladybug had no one to help her, a singular beacon of red amongst a sea of villains, controlled by an experienced miraculous user. 

Nathalie swallowed her reluctance and the taste of guilt replaced it, bitter and unpleasant on her tongue. She calmly stood and walked to Adrien’s room, her pace brisk and the click of her heels echoing confidently throughout the house. She wasted no time surging into the room and holding out a hand to Adrien, who practically melted in relief. He gave her a bright smile.

Adrien twists the ring from his finger and places it into her palm. “You have to say, ‘Plagg, claws out,’ and you’ll transform. Nathalie purses her lips but complies anyway, thoughts straying to the small woman fighting a tidal wave of villains all alone. 

“Plagg?” she called, slipping the ring on her finger. The small creature materialized by her side. “Claws out.”

The transformation is immediate, green light consuming her and filling her with a sense of strength and security that feels boundless, spilling from her fingertips. The light fades and Nathalie glances down at herself. She’s wearing a fitted black suit with leather lapels and a tousled, slightly unbuttoned, green undershirt. She has black leather boots that climb up her thighs with matching clawed gloves that fit like a second skin and disappear under the sleeves of her suit. Her normal glasses are replaced with black-framed cat-eye glasses, with green-tinted lenses. A long braid is slung over her shoulder, her red streak replaced with a vivid green. 

“Woah! You look amazing,” Adrien says with almost infectious childish excitement.

“Thank you,” Nathalie says dipping her head. She looks at the silver staff in her palm. She’s watched the footage of Chat Noir using it, so she tentatively presses one of the paw print buttons. A screen slides open, an instruction manual displayed across it. Nathalie skims it before throwing open Adrien’s window. 

“I’ll see you soon,” she tells Adrien, “Don’t get out of bed unless you absolutely have to.”

Adrien nods dutifully, “Be careful.”

“I will,” Nathalie said and extended the staff, rising from the window and leaping onto a nearby roof.

The vaults toward the fight, mind reeling at the dizzying speed and immense drop. She ought to be terrified, but a small part of her was elated. The rush of power and freedom was intoxicating. She was flying. 

When she arrived at the fight her apparent partner in crime (it really was crime- vigilante justice was technically illegal) was still fighting valiantly, though her breaths were coming out in short ragged breaths. Nathalie felt a surge of protectiveness that she was almost positive wasn’t her. She had only ever felt protective of Adrien, and maybe Mrs. Agreste, and that was after years of working for them. But somehow every bone in her body was aching with the need to protect this stranger. Nathalie doubted it was even for the woman herself, but something about seeing the Ladybug miraculous user heightened the protective cat instincts. Magic bullshit and all that.

Nathalie dropped between New Ladybug and the onslaught of attacks from the akuma and her minions. “Three against one? Hardly seems fair?” she quipped smugly. She flourished the staff, twirling it to gain momentum before slamming it against the plant themed freaks. The minions stumbled backwards, wheezing and gasping for breath. The akuma stepped back but seemed unfazed.

“Oh don’t worry, I can defeat you on an even playing field too.” The villain retorted easily. 

Nathalie gave the girl a critical look. “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” she said dismissively. 

The akuma lunged at her and New Ladybug. Nathalie gave a twisted smirk that bared her teeth. Combat training and miraculous enhanced instincts kicked in and Nathalie handed the kid her ass in minutes.

New Ladybug purified the akuma and gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you, I don’t know how much longer I could have held on.”

“You did wonderfully,” Nathalie complimented, “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Oh don’t worry about it, dear,” the shorter woman comforted, “I know how difficult it is to leave an injured child at home.”

“Wh- what?” Nathalie asked weakly.

“Oh, well my daughter, Ladybug as you probably guessed, told me everything. She said that she and Chat Noir were injured in battle and agreed to go to their mothers for help. So I know how hard it is to take up this whole superhero thing and leave your baby at home.”

“Your daughter said, that Chat Noir said, that he would ask his mother for help with the miraculous?” Nathalie clarified softly. All sorts of emotions twisting into a lump in her throat.

“Well yes,” the woman said, confused by Nathalie’s bafflement, “Are you- are you not Chat Noir’s mother?”

Nathalie knows she should say no. It was probably a mistake, Adrien just misspoke or didn’t want to admit to having a dead mother and neglectful father. Who knows how he would react if New Ladybug or the people of Paris said anything about her being his mother. 

“I am his mother,” she says instead, “I’m just surprised they made a plan of it, he didn’t tell me they had an agreement.”

“I suppose that’s teenagers for you,” the woman said good naturedly, “They tend to leave out all sorts of important details, just to keep their mothers on their toes.”

Nathalie smiled. “I think you may be right about that.”

A swarm of news reporters spilled onto the newly repaired streets and raced toward them, and Nathalie resisted the urge to step in front of Ladybug’s mother. She had fought off news reporters at Gabriel brand fashion shows and would do it again “hero” or not. These reporters seemed far more respectful however, and included one of Adrien’s friends from school, a girl with curly hair wearing an orange flannel shirt. 

They tentatively held microphones in their faces, training cameras on the two women. Nathalie tensed, and wanted nothing more than to hiss at them- an urge she had never felt before.

Ladybug’s mom on the other hand seemed perfectly earnest and polite toward them, a sure sign she was not involved in the media industry. 

They poured questions at her, rapid fire, of which the woman settled with answering a few. 

“What is your relation to the original Chat Noir and Ladybug?”

“We are their mothers, respectively.”

Nathalie winced internally, knowing Adrien would be watching this and hanging onto every word.

“What are your names?”

Ladybug’s mom hesitated for a moment. “I suppose you may call me… Lady Luck.” She turned to look at Nathalie with an encouraging smile.

Nathalie didn’t take long to decide. “My name is Madame Bastet.”

Most of the reporters didn’t seem to understand her name, but Lady Luck turned to her in recognition. Nathalie winked in confirmation. “I’m a fan of Ancient Egypt.”

“I can tell,” Lady Luck grinned. The cocky grin looked almost out of place on Lady Luck’s kind face. Nathalie smiled to herself. ‘You really can’t judge a book by its cover,’ she thought.

Another reporter chimed in. “If you are Ladybug and Chat Noir’s mothers why did you allow them to fight Hawkmoth in the first place. Are you truly so heartless as mothers to allow your children to fight a psychopath?”

Lady Luck looked hurt, and eager to defend herself, but Nathalie stepped in. She had dealt with those kinds of reporters before, and knew any attempt at pacifying them would be futile. Nathalie gave him a piercing look and leaned into the microphone he had shoved in her partners face. “Oh you reporters, always so eager to twist the story,” she said cheerfully, effectively shutting him up, and earning him several glares from other people in the crowd. 

Then she turned to the rest of them sternly. “No more questions,'' she commanded civilly but firmly. She gave the crowd her best, most soul withering, don’t-argue-with-me look, and turned to Lady Luck.

The woman looked surprised. “You are the strict kind of mother aren’t you? You’ll have to teach me how to be so commanding, I worry I am too lenient with my daughter.”

“I’m not as strict as one would think,” Nathalie said, shrugging, “But I am not a fan of reporters.”

Lady Luck patted her arm understandingly. “I’m certainly beginning to see why. Now I should get going, I don’t want to leave my daughter alone for long. I somehow doubt she is being completely obedient towards my ‘rest and take care of yourself’ rule.”

“I completely understand,” Nathalie said with a smile, “My- my son, probably wasn’t resting the whole time either. Tell your daughter I hope she feels better soon, and I’m sure Chat Noir does as well. I’ll see you around Lucky.” The nickname slipped out naturally, as if Nathalie had been calling the woman that for years. She blinked at herself.

Lady Luck just gave her a bright smile, “Send the same sentiments to your son! I look forward to our next meeting Miss Bastet.”

Nathalie gave the woman one last grin and vaulted away. For the first time since the attacks her memories of it weren’t bleeding at the edges; every moment was sharp and precise and electric. She felt lighter than she had in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been stewing in my brain for months so I’m so glad I’ve finally written it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Luck works on reconciling her familial responsibilities with her superpowered ones.

Sabine Cheng had always been proud of her daughter. She would never have bragged about it, of course, but Marinette was her pride and joy. The girl was beautiful, intelligent, kind, and passionate. Sabine was astounded every day by her daughter’s capacity for generosity and strength. 

But despite all her capabilities, when Marinette had come stumbling down her balcony, concussed and dappled with bruises, Sabine had been truly terrified. The young independent woman she had seen from her daughter had been torn apart in Sabine’s memories, replaced by the image of her small fragile daughter crying out in pain and curled up from stress. 

When they had finally come home from the crowded hospital, Marinette had pulled Sabine to her room and placed two garnet studs in her palm. She had begged Sabine to take them, to use them to protect Paris. 

She had wanted to refuse. It was a daunting task most certainly, and running a bakery was not the sort of job you could afford to run off and fight supervillains every few days for. Surely there was someone else more suited to the task. But Marinette had placed an immense trust in her, and Sabine knew it was the only thing that would relieve the stress weighing on her daughter. 

So Sabine had taken them, slipped the jewels in her ears. She conversed politely with the little creature that revealed itself. She went to bed without mentioning them to her husband, who had sensed she was upset- bless him- but asked her no questions. Instead, he had pulled her close, kissed the back of her neck, and fallen asleep with her in his arms.

It was supposed to be an honor, wasn’t it? To be chosen to be a hero? That must have been why her beautiful, talented, incredible daughter had been chosen. Still, Sabine could barely stand to keep them in her ears knowing that they were the very jewels that put Marinette in danger. She was out of her depth, the whole magic miraculous business seeming vast and intangible in her mind’s eye. She decided it was better not to question it, though ignoring problems was remarkably unlike herself. That was another thing she decided not to worry about. 

When Sabine had finally had to actually transform and face the new responsibility, she found it was much simpler in the costume. An all-encompassing lightness and confidence had consumed her, and Sabine felt her anxieties ease. ‘Everything would be fine. Even if it wasn’t, she was doing it for Marinette so she would endure it anyway.’

As she slipped out the balcony door Marinette told her that she would have help. Chat Noir’s mother, she said. Sabine was pleased, it was a relief to know she wouldn’t be alone while fighting. It was also nice to know that she wasn’t the only woman on the planet raising a superhero teenager. 

She had fought alone for an exhaustive amount of time. It was only a few minutes, but battling alone against several villains required quite a bit of exertion. When Madame Bastet had finally arrived at the fight Sabine noticed two things immediately. First, she was an excellent fighter, and second, looked almost nothing like Chat Noir. Where Chat Noir had round cheeks, tan skin, and blonde hair- his mother had a sharp distinct face, with strikingly pale skin, and jet black hair. Beneath her green-tinted glasses, Sabine noticed a pair of sea-blue eyes. The woman was tall, distinctly so, and wore a playfully tousled suit that sharpened her lithe wiry figure.

Despite the differences, the flair was the exact same, and Sabine had no doubt this was Chat Noir’s mother. The way this woman smirked- baring her canines, and the snark she tossed at the villains, was all very reminiscent of Chat Noir. 

The first fight together had been brief, they had barely talked. But immediately after, Sabine felt an odd sort of kinship with the woman. If only because they were quite likely the only two mothers in the world who were stumbling to figure out how to raise a child who is also a secret magical vigilante. 

The second fight hadn’t been nearly so short. Hawkmoth seemed to have every intention of exploiting their inexperience. He released an insect-themed akuma that had an unnecessary amount of arms and commanded all the roaches of Paris. The akuma was well armored and had a pair of shiny beetle horns protruding from their forehead. The akumatised object seemed to be a small beaded necklace that bobbed over and under the faux beetle thorax, making it annoyingly difficult to reach. 

Madame Bastet had been the first one to that fight and was quickly surrounded by the brunt force of thousands of roaches. It was a horrifying image. Still, when Lady Luck arrived at the scene, the other woman had spared her a brief smile. “How does it feel to be betrayed by your cousins Lucky?”

Sabine had never been terribly invested in bugs, but she felt a surprising flare of protectiveness for her spotted counterparts. “Ladybugs and roaches are not cousins. Roaches are more of an estranged uncle if anything.”

The other woman smiled. “Or perhaps an absent father.”

“Oh certainly, something lowly and detestable like that.”

Madame Bastet laughed, spinning her baton rapidly to shield them from the onslaught of insects. Sabine knew she would quickly tire if she kept that up, so she called on her lucky charm. A spotted spray can of raid landed in her hands.

“Well that’s convenient,” Madame Bastet said, glancing over her shoulder. 

“It’d be more convenient if we had ten,” Sabine shouted over the buzzing of wings. Still, she began spraying it at the bugs and looked for another use. They needed to get the akuma to turn their back on one of them so they could grab the necklace from behind. Sabine thought for a moment before deciding on a plan. It was far less convoluted than Ladybug’s plans, but she was a working mother, no one could blame her for being in a hurry.

She drew closer to Madame Bastet’s side and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in her ear. The other woman was still too tall, and wearing high heeled boots on top of it. Madame leaned down awkwardly while fighting off bugs. “I’m going behind the akuma. But first I need you to cataclysm the top of this thing. When the akuma falls, grab the necklace.” 

The woman nodded, and carefully called on her destructive power. She pressed a finger to the attached lid of the can, which crumbled to black dust. The toxic smelling can was still mostly full of liquid. Sabine slipped away from her, easily lost to the akuma’s sight in the cloud of bugs. 

When she was directly behind the akuma she dumped the contents of the can into a slick puddle behind their shoes. Then she backed up a few steps and chucked the can as hard as she could into the back of the villain’s head. It slammed hard against their skull and the akuma cried out in pain and rage. Madame Bastet whistled admiringly at the force of the throw. The akuma whirled around and trained it’s beady eyes on her. They stepped toward her and immediately slipped on the puddle of raid, crashing heavily onto the concrete. 

Madame Bastet leaped forward and snatched the necklace off the vulnerable akuma and handed it to Sabine. She cracked the beads of the necklace in her palm and a black butterfly fluttered out. She purified it and restored the city to normal, mentally patting herself on the back. Cheers began to ring out in the streets. 

“Good job today partner,” Madame Bastet complimented, ignoring the news reporters who had surrounded them and were flailing to try to get her attention. 

“You too,” Sabine said kindly. 

Seemingly trying to piss off the reporters and journalists even more than she already had, Madame Bastet turned away from them, and gently pulled Sabine with her. She leaned in to whisper something without the public hearing. “My son suggested we could try to train together, to build stamina and practice working with each other. I’m busy all day, but if you’re free this evening I think it could be beneficial.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Sabine agreed. “I am also busy all day, but I can meet you this evening. Does Notre Dame work for you?”

Madame Bastet, ever the apparent history nerd, nodded eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to see Notre Dame from the roof. Seven-thirty?”

“Seven-thirty.” Sabine nodded. 

The other woman gave her a small nod and held up a hand in parting. She vaulted away with the agility of someone who had been doing this for years.

When Sabine slipped back through the balcony door, Marinette was perched on her bed, the news app pulled up on her tablet. 

“Maman!” She said happily, noticing her mother descending the steps. “I’m glad everything went off without a hitch. Nadia Chamack covered the whole battle! There’s a whole media circus revolving around Lady Luck and Madame Bastet! Everyone has something to say.”

“Good things I hope,” Sabine said nervously as she crawled onto her daughter’s bed, unused to all the attention.

Marinette handed her the tablet and reached for a stuffed cat which she hugged to her chest. “It’s mostly good things, especially for you. They like you because you’re sweet. They like Madame Bastet because she’s the bad cop to your good cop. She’s all stoic and mysterious.”

Sabine smiled. “She’s not really all that mysterious, she just has some personal distrust for journalists and reporters.”

Marinette thought for a moment, “I suppose I could understand that. I mean, Adrien and Jagged have both told me about how invasive reporters can be. She’s probably trying to avoid the kind of horrible media coverage they get.”

There was a knock on the door. “Everything okay in there?” her husband asked.

“Yes Papa, come on in.”

Tom uncovered the panel and climbed into Marinette’s room. He smiled at the two of them and revealed a plate of fresh bread that was buttered and covered in dark jam. “I brought my girls an after-akuma snack.”

Marinette clapped her hands in delight and Sabine felt a warm glow in her chest. Tom reached up and handed them the plate. Marinette took a huge bite while Sabine descended the ladder to join her husband. 

“Hi,” He said, grinning, and looping an arm around her waist.

She smiled up at him. “Hiya.”

She ached to tell him everything. Ever since they had met Sabine had always told him everything. It was never compulsory, he had never demanded it, but he handled problems just the way Sabine needed them handled. He was a good listener and always said the perfect thing at the perfect time. The idea that he had no idea that she wasn’t really watching their injured daughter during attacks and was instead fighting villains, pained her.

Marinette seemed to sense her growing discomfort and cleared her throat. Sabine turned back to her. 

“Maman, can I talk to you? Alone.”

“Of course baby.”

Tom didn’t seem to mind at all. He took the plate and gave them both a kiss on the forehead. He waved at them enthusiastically as he descended the steps, shutting the trapdoor behind him.

Marinette waited a cautionary moment before looking at her mother. “You can’t tell him about all this.”

Sabine sighed and shook her head. “I can’t keep a secret this big. It would be better if he knows what’s going on so he can help, and take care of you when I’m gone.”

“It could put him in danger!”

“It would put him in more danger to be ignorant of the situation sweetheart,” Sabine told her. “I’ve agreed to train with Madame Bastet this evening and I’d rather your father know where I am.”

“You have to lie Maman. The Guardian said it would be perilous if we told anyone our identities.”

“I’m not going to do that my dear,” Sabine said, “I understand why the public and my partner can’t know, but Tom is my husband. Effective communication will be better in the long run.”

Marinette sighed, but the anxious look on her face didn’t wane. “Alright, if you think it’s best. Just be careful.”

“I will,” Sabine assured her. 

She returned down to the main part of the house, where Tom was preparing dinner and humming to a pop song playing on the radio. He smiled excitedly when he noticed her. “I missed you.”

“You saw me two minutes ago.” Sabine said.

“I still missed you,” He turned off the stove and set down the knife he was using to cut vegetables. “Is everything all right with our little girl?”

“She’s fine,” Sabine said soothingly, “We just need to have an important conversation with you.”

Tom looked at her knowingly. He gave a sage nod, “I think I know what this is about.”

Sabine’s eyes widened. ‘How could he possibly-’

“Marinette wants a hamster.”

‘Oh.’ She let out a shocked laugh. “No, not quite my love, though I suspect that is another conversation we will have to have.”

Tom wiped his hands on a towel slung over his broad shoulder. “If not the hamster, what is it?”

Sabine tugged at the earring nervously. She hoped she was making the right decision. 

“Marinette is Ladybug.” 

Tom stilled, and blinked at her for a moment. “Really?”

“Yes. That’s how she got injured.”

Tom clenched his fists. “I’m going to murder Hawkmoth.”

“You and me both dear. And I suspect Madame Bastet as well.”

Her husband gave her a long look, an expression she had never seen before crossed his face. “So you are Lady Luck?”

Sabine nodded wordlessly. 

Tom let out a humorless huff of laughter. “I suppose I’m less ashamed to admit that I thought Lady Luck was strikingly pretty.”

She blushed. “Really?”

“Yup. I’m glad she’s you so I don’t have to feel bad.”

Sabine laughed and nuzzled close to her husband. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. “It sounds like a lot of responsibility,” he whispered into her hair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m managing,” she said softly, shutting her eyes. 

“Is Marinette okay?”

“She’s stressed, and responsible for far more than any teenager should be.”  
Tom tightened his hold on her. “We can talk to her pediatrician about counseling. And I’ll take more evenings off from the bakery to help her with homework.”

Sabine nodded. “We’ll talk to her about it first. We can make a plan together.”

Tom hummed in agreement, absentmindedly tracing circles in her back. 

“I’ve agreed to train with Madame Bastet at the Notre Dame this evening so we can learn how to work together. Will you hold down the fort until I get back?”

“Of course my dear,” He said, placing a brief pack on her cheek. “What time should you be back?”

“I think I should be back by nine. If it runs late I will text you.” She squeezed his hand.

“Got it. You want to help me with dinner?”

“Sure, what are we making?”

“Fried eggplant and lemon-pepper chicken.”

“Ooh yum!” Sabine smiled. “Let me get my apron.”

They finished making dinner together, and ate it in Marinette’s room so they could all be together while Marinette remained in bed. The girl was getting restless but continued to take it easy at her parent’s request. It was a relief to speak freely about everything and even Marinette- despite her reservations- seemed to enjoy it too. 

She and Tom put the dishes in the sink before she transformed (and secretly delighted at the admiration that lit up on his face when he saw her as Lady Luck) and slipped onto the balcony. 

She arrived at exactly seven-thirty, but Madame Bastet was already there, lounging on a carved stone banister.

“You’re very punctual,” Lady Luck commented as she dropped lightly beside her new partner. 

“Force of habit,” the other woman said with a shrug. “How do you want to do this thing?”

Sabine thought for a moment but thought of nothing. “I don’t know, I think it would just be good to get to know each other so we’ll work together as congruously as our children.”

Madame Bastet nodded. “I am also at a bit of a loss. Ad- my son, suggested sparring. 

Lady Luck nodded. “That sounds good to me. Though it is a bit odd to fight on purpose, as a team-building exercise.”

The other woman laughed. “Believe me, I am equally unaccustomed to this situation.”

Madame Bastet stood and walked a few paces away from her. Sabine widened her stance and held up her fists. The other woman took up a similar pose and they stared at each other for a moment, waiting for someone to make the first move. Madame was the one to grow tired of anticipation, and drew forward to land a blow with her staff. 

Sabine dodged and flung her yoyo toward the other woman’s ankle, attempting to trip her. She easily sidestepped. 

Madame was limber and much taller than her, and seemed experienced in combat. Sabine found herself adjusting quickly to her partner’s smooth, confident fighting style. Sabine was small, fast, and strong, and able to get into close range, land a few jabs, and duck back out of risky proximity rapidly. 

Madame, in return, was very good at evasive maneuvers, throwing her off balance and flipping away with the ease of, well, a cat. They talked as they fought, discussing their children and the utter bizarreness of the whole miraculous business. They had just gotten to the topic of the best kind of chocolate when the other woman raised one of her long legs and hooked it under Sabine’s, making her fall gracelessly to the ground. 

“My apologies,” the woman panted apologetically. 

Sabine grabbed her ankle and yanked it out from under her. Madame landed hard onto the stone next to her with a yelp of surprise. “That’s quite alright.”

Madame propped herself up on her elbows and laughed, “I’m impressed Lucky, I didn’t think you’d be the kind to fight dirty. “

“Get used to it Madame,” Sabine warned lightheartedly, “I’m not quite as gentle as my daughter.”

Madame smirked. “Good. I’m not quite as kind as my son.”

“Hmm,” Sabine said contemplatively, “I believe this partnership will suit us both very well.”

“Yes, I agree,” Madame confirmed resolutely. “She checked the time on her staff. “Oh wow, time flies when you’re fighting with superpowers, I should be going home.”

“Same time tomorrow?” Sabine proposed, “I think this exercise has been immensely beneficial.”

“I agree,” Madame said, throwing her head back and finger combing some stray locks of hair back into place. “It’s better than reading bad romance novels anyway.”

Lady Luck smiled, “I believe most things are better than that particular use of an evening.”

“This is true,” the other woman conceded, pulling herself to a standing position. “See you then, Lucky.”

“Goodbye.” 

The two parted ways and returned to their homes. When Sabine went into her room she found Tom and Marintte curled up on the bed, both snoring through some action movie. Sabine smiled to herself and turned off the TV before climbing into bed. The moment she was under the covers, both her daughter and her husband snuggled against her- still asleep. Sabine smiled blissfully and contemplated her new partnership, before eventually falling into a heavy sleep.

When she and Madame Bastet met the next day to spar, Madame brought a notebook to try and schedule matches. Sabine brought chocolates. They decided on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays in the evening, both too busy with their jobs and kids to meet at any other time.

Akuma attacks and sparring matches came and went, and Sabine could feel them slowly growing more in sync and capable. They made an excellent duo in combat, both with each other and against real villains. They very quickly formed a genuine friendship, asice from whatever miraculous altered attachment their relationship had started as. Madame was cynical and stoic, but she was also organized and passionate. She clearly had a deep love for her son, which Sabine admired. 

Weeks passed and their partnership strengthened as their children did, and they kept each other updated on the little improvements, ignoring the bittersweet awareness that their stint with the miraculouses was rapidly coming to a close.

**************

Madame was definitely a little drunk. Lady Luck was too if she was being honest with herself, glancing at the wine bottle balanced between them on a flat terracotta roof tile. Two empty glasses sat next to it- one rimmed with red lipstick, the other with black. 

They had both admitted to being lightweights at the beginning of the evening and had sworn to be responsible when they decided to drink instead of spar. That one hadn’t lasted long. 

Neither woman seemed terribly disappointed by their lack of sobriety. It was, after all, the last evening they’d be spending on the roofs of Paris, and the bitterness of it all was sweetened by the wine and the company.

It was a lovely wine, all sweet cherries, and plums, and cracked black pepper. It was an easy distraction from the elephant in the room.

Marinette and Chat Noir were both fully healed. Sabine and Madame had both prolonged the healing process to keep the two out of the line of fire, but their children had shown rapid improvement. Which meant they would have to give the miraculouses back. They would have to wait idly in front of a screen waiting to be saved, but this time they would know that the heroes sacrificing themselves were their children. 

Sabine wanted to refuse. She wanted to keep the miraculous and keep Marinette safe and hidden away from Hawkmoth’s rage. But if she did, Marinette would never forgive her. 

Madame seemed to be grappling with the same confliction and was avoiding it at all costs. So instead of talking about it, they complained about work and bragged about their children in the vaguest possible terms. They both had to work with some form of customer it seemed, though Madame’s job seemed much more formal than Sabine’s. She also seemed to hate it far more.

“Honestly people seem to think I am some sort of robot! I’m not Siri, I can’t just do whatever people want of me; I have a protocol to follow!”

Sabine huffed in agreement. “Interacting with customers is truly the most trying part of any job.”

“Right!” Madame said, laying down and swinging her legs over the edge of the roof. “I can do all the technical tasks, but the second I have to deal with other people who think they’re too important to be talking to me I have to resist the urge to throw them out a window.”

Sabine laughed, “You could too. Every time I have a particularly challenging customer my husband comes and stands behind me, silently staring at them. He is a very large man so most customers will quickly change their attitude.”

“That’s so sweet!” Madame said smiling, “I wish I had a husband, if just for that purpose.”

Sabine glanced at her. Madame had mentioned Chat Noir’s father, so she had assumed she was married. Looking back on her conversations she realized the other woman had never specified.

“Are you and Chat Noir’s father not involved?”

“What?” Madame asked- looking immensely confused. “Oh, yeah-” her voice turned cold, “-him,”

“Did that not end well?” Sabine asked- blaming her blatant crossing of boundaries on the wine.

“There was nothing to end. I’m not Chat Noir’s biological mother. Or stepmother. Or any real definition of mother. I’m just his guardian. His father and I were never involved and never will be. He’s a total ass.”

Sabine blinked at the admission. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Madame sighed, “it’s a complicated situation.”

“Chat Noir’s biological mother?”

“Dead.”

“Oh.”

Madame Bastet smiled at her. “I’m a little jealous of your nuclear family model. That’s why I said he was my son. I wanted to have what you have with your daughter.”

That was a lot to unpack. Normally Madame was a pretty stoic woman, so her bout of vulnerability was surprising to say the least. 

“I’m surprised to hear that,” Lady Luck admitted. “You are so similar to Chat Noir, I never doubted you were his mother.”

“What?” Madame asked, sounding pleased but confounded. “We look nothing alike.”

“Yes but the similarities are still striking. You smile the same way and have the same sense of humor. Though I am grateful that you pun less-” Madame snorted “- and when he’s thinking he makes the same face you do. And you both fiddle with the ring when you’re nervous.”

Madame smiled at her, not her usual mischievous smirk, but a real genuine smile. “I’ll miss you when we have to give the miraculouses back.”

Lady Luck lay on her back, mirroring the position Madame was sprawled in. “I will miss you too. Though I have no doubt we will see each other again. We raised two very capable children. Hawkmoth’s reign will inevitably be cut short, and we can be friends as civilians.”

Madame smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Speaking of wonderful, I’ve brought a few little treats for our last rooftop rendezvous.” Sabine said, reaching into her pocket.

Madame’s ears pricked forward expectantly.

She procured a small bag of assorted traits from the bakery. She didn’t expect Madame to notice the bakery’s packaging, but the other woman’s eyes lit up in recognition at the clear plastic bag with little gold spots. 

“Oh I love the Dupain-Cheng bakery!” Madame said, delighted. 

Sabine blushed, both from the indirect flattery and the nervousness of someone saying her last name at her while transformed. “I’m rather fond of it as well,” she replied carefully.

Sabine opened the bag and held it out to the other woman, who carefully selected a small coffee-flavored macaron with her black claws. Sabine started to recall a list of regular customers who ordered coffee-flavored desserts. She quickly shut down that train of thought.

They nibbled on their desserts and poured another glass of wine for each other. They heard a dull noise behind them, but only saw a few birds quarreling. 

The conversation lapsed and Sabine began to hum a song. When she tired of the melody she moved onto another tune, a jazzy song from a brass band she liked. 

“I know that song,” Madame said softly, thinking for a moment before singing along. She had a low, pleasantly husky voice- dappling velvety notes with a soft rasp that added an air of rock to the jazz lyrics. 

“You have a nice voice,” Sabine complimented when they finished. 

“Thank you, you’re not half bad yourself.

“We should quit our jobs and form a girl band.”

Madame laughed before yawning. “I should be going home, I have work tomorrow.”

Sabine nodded but didn’t move. “I should as well.”

Madame grabbed the empty wine bottle and disposable cups and vaulted over to a nearby trash can. When she came back she eagerly tucked Sabine’s treats in her belt.

“Alright, I’m off.” Madame said, wrapping Sabine in a brief parting hug.

She looked reluctant to leave. Lady Luck patted her shoulder reassuringly, “Hey, I’ll see you when Hawkmoth is defeated. Send my love to your son.”

Madame smiled. “Of course, and send mine to your daughter. When he is defeated we’ll have the most fantastic party ever held.”

Sabine nodded, not allowing herself to imagine the potential years they might have to go without seeing each other until Hawkmoth was defeated. 

Madame broke eye contact, and the emotions that had filled her face seemed as though they were wiped away with a wet cloth. She looked blank and stoic as she turned away and vaulted off with her staff, only glancing back for a moment. Sabine watched until she was only a pitch-black pinprick against the already black sky. 

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one watching. 

“I thought she’d never leave,” mused a deep male voice. She could tell he was grinning without seeing his face. 

Sabine whirled around, and saw a tall purple-clad figure towering over her. She immediately reached for her yoyo but his proximity was too close. Hawkmoth grabbed her and pushed her hard against a brick chimney, hitting her head against it. Sabine saw fireworks of white. Ignoring the pain she tried to fight back. After a bit of squirming his grip on her loosened and she took the chance to swing at him. Her fist collided against his jaw. Hard. 

The man cursed but didn’t release her, instead shoving her violently backward again. Her head sliced against the edge of a brick and she felt something warm and wet drip smear against her scalp. Sabine gasped in pain. 

Hawkmoth ignored her and yanked an earring out of her ear. Sabine felt the chill of cold air press against her wrists and brow as her costume began to dissipate. She fought harder, desperately trying to escape, but the alcohol, pain, and adrenaline made her fumble. 

Having tucked one of her earrings in his pocket, Hawkmoth reached for the other. Sabine squirmed and began to call out. “Help! Madame Bastet! Help me!” her voice was ragged, and there was no one within earshot anyway.

Hawkmoth seemed to smirk at that, knowing full well her partner was far away. Sabine came to a hazy realization. She looked at him. “You waited for Madame to leave because you knew you couldn’t take us both, even drunk!” She giggled immaturely when he furrowed his brows in embarrassment, the corners of his mouth twisting downward.

She knew she was beaten, may as well embarrass the hell out of this asshole. 

He glared at her and snatched the other earring, slamming her back once more for good measure. Sabine groaned, her miraculous enhanced strength was gone so she felt the full force of the blow. Her head swam. Her legs went weak.

The man carefully tucked the other earring away. When he turned back there was a flicker of recognition of his face. 

“Pity it’s you,” he said without a trace of real remorse. Sabine’s vision binked out. “And it’s a pity it’ll be so easy to capture the rest of them now.”

She was falling, sight flashing between white and black, despite her eyes being open. Hawkmoth had grabbed her, he was taking her somewhere. He was saying things that might have been important, but Sabine could only hear garble and a sharp ringing.

When she woke up she was in a vast room. She could hear water flowing below her. A pale butterfly rested on her shoulder. A huge window poured starlight into the room. All the corners the silver light couldn’t reach were lit by pleasant-smelling oil lamps. A long catwalk led to a garden, filled with butterflies and flowers. There was a dark shape in the center of it, shaped like a casket. It was so lovely and strange Sabine might have pondered it to be the afterlife had she not been tied to a chair. It was a nice chair though, looked expensive. She tried to untie herself, but the frantic throbbing in her head slowly consumed her, and she passed out again. 

When she woke up again, the sun had just barely breached the sky, and the massive room had been painted in shades of baby blue and tangerine. She heard a struggling next to her, and a panicked breathing. Sabine braced herself for who she might see.

Perhaps a boy with round cheeks and messy blonde hair.

Or a woman with black hair and a sharp smile.

Or her own daughter. 

She selfishly hoped it was none of them. She knew that wouldn’t be the case. Sabine turned and saw Marinette in an equally fancy chair, clad in her pajamas, struggling to escape her confines. The girl let out a little whimper when she saw her mother conscious. 

“Maman?”

“I’m fine baby, are you okay?”

“As okay as I can be, Marinette admitted. Hawkmoth grabbed me last night out of nowhere. I guess he found out your identity.”

Sabine nodded. “He grabbed me last night. Took the earrings. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Madame Bastet?” 

“She was already gone. I think she’s okay.”

Marinette allowed herself a small sigh of relief. “Good. Maybe she or Chat Noir can help us.”

“Unfortunately-” said an unwelcome voice, “It will be difficult for the wielders of the black cat miraculous to save you.”

They turned to see Hawkmoth watching them with a smug grin. “Not if they want to see the two of you unharmed. No, I think instead of a rescue mission, the two of you should pencil ‘getting used as bait’ into your schedules.”

The two Dupain-Cheng women glared at him.

“It’ll never work,” Marinette spat uselessly.

Hawkmoth rolled his eyes. “You two really shouldn’t have gone and gotten so attached to your partners. Cause we both know that it will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t mean to guilt trip because I freaking hate when people do the whole “if you don’t comment you’re a bad person” thing, but it really is super helpful when y’all comment, so if you have anything at all to say I’d love to hear it!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying something new here but I'm really excited about this fic! Also, if you guys have any recommendations for a better summary please tell me because I am stumped.


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